


Not a Nightmare

by OptimisticEmotion



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Family Dynamics, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, dream fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticEmotion/pseuds/OptimisticEmotion
Summary: Sometimes Jason has some weird dreams. This time, he has a dream about his dad, both of them. And something about fishing? He doesn't want to think too hard about what it means.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Not a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Ever have a dream about your favorite comic book characters? Maybe I'm just weird?

  
Jason was in a small rowboat, casting a line with a fishing rod. There were small mountains on either shore along the channel that he was floating on, blocking any distinguishing features of the land around him. It smelled like morning and there was a light fog wisping all around, only growing thicker with distance. The gentle rocking of his boat was soothing, and he could almost forget all his troubles as it swayed to and fro.

Next to him, sitting on a weird wooden dock that didn't really connect to either shore, just sorta put right next to Jason's boat, was Willis Todd, reading a newspaper. He had his legs crossed and was just a bit slouched in his seat as his eyes darted across the print before him. Jason was making a point not to talk to him. There was something he was waiting for Willis to say, but like hell he was going to prompt the man forward.

Jason began to reel in the line. It was just barely going taught enough to let Jason know that the reel was working, but it was taking a while. Finally, Willis broke his silence.

"You might as well quit reelin', that hook ain't eva gunna come." Jason shot him a glare. He still hadn't said what Jason wanted him to say, _needed_ him to say. Jason couldn't help but bite out his retort.

"What do _you_ know, Old Man?" He ground out from between his teeth and began to reel in his line more vigorously. He wasn't really sure why he was reeling in the first place, he could easily tell there was no fish at the other end of the line, but now he didn't care. It was now nothing more than a point of pride.

Suddenly, large, warm hands gently laid over his own, stilling them with a small sense of obligation. Jason looked up to see Bruce sitting across from him in the rowboat. Bruce's eyes were pleading with him as he spoke.

"Please, Jason, it's not worth it. Just stop reeling, Son." It wasn't a command, it wasn't a jeer, but Jason was determined to get that hook back in and he was irritated that Bruce was already convinced he'd fail.

"Stuff it," he growled. He then threw down the rod and just grabbed the line with his bare hands, yanking it in. He didn't feel even the slightest tension from it as he pulled, the slack of the line dropping to his feet. When he realized he was getting tangled at the ankles, he started wrapping the line around his arms, only for it to begin to tangle there, too.

As Jason got himself all tied up with his own line, Bruce just watched on with those sad eyes, doing nothing to stop him. Jason felt anger bubble up in his chest, the least the guy could do is help cut him loose!

Finally, Jason was so tangled up in his line that he could barely move anymore. He couldn't keep pulling at his line nor could he work an arm free to start untying himself from the mess he made. Bruce was still just sitting there, watching.

"Happy now?" Jason growled at him, now incapable of doing anything but sitting down and glaring at his adopted father.

Bruce looked back, misty-eyed and morris.

"No," he replied solemnly, "not in the least."

\--

Jason's eyes slowly opened. He was staring up at the ceiling of their current hotel room in Syria. He went to rub a hand to his face to find that he couldn't move it. Frowning, Jason looked down to see that not only did he get himself tangled up in his sheets, but there was a large, thick arm draped around him as if to pin him down.

He followed the arm up to its owner to see Bizarro with Pup-pup clutched in his other hand, creating a plush separator between the two men. Jason sighed and worked to free his arms from their encasement.

"He only did that cause you were having a nightmare," Artemise grumbled from the other bed.

"I wasn't having a nightmare," Jason argued, finally twisting his right arm away from Biz's gripe from beneath the covers and brought it up and over to the cool air of the hotel room.

"You were thrashing about," Artemise challenged him. He could practically hear the raised brow, not quite able to see it in the dark room.

"It still wasn't a nightmare." Jason paused for a second to think of what a dream like that would be called. It wasn't a nightmare, those usually consisted of crow-bars, clowns, dirt and caskets, and loss of mental control over himself. A dream about getting tangled up in his own fishing line? That wasn't a nightmare. "It was just a really weird dream."

"Whatever. Lay still and go back to sleep, Little One, you're keeping both of us awake," Artemise grumbled before turning back over in her own bed. Jason ignored her and worked on getting his other arm free. It was just too hot under the covers for it and it had grown well past 'uncomfortable'. Sighing at the realization the Bizarro had it properly pinned, he used his one free hand to tap the big guy on the shoulder.

"Hey, Biz, mind letting my arm out?" He asked. Bizarro didn't even open his eyes, just simply lifted his arm until Jason had managed to slip his own from under the blanket, and then laid his arm back down gently. Now able to get comfortable again, Jason managed to turn to his side and close his eyes.

Maybe this time he won't dream at all.


End file.
